


Endless War

by Irea_System



Category: Rockman | Mega Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Multi, Other, Rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26075545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irea_System/pseuds/Irea_System
Summary: There is a legend about a robot that fought his own kind to protect humanity. His name was Rockman. One-hundred years ago, he vanished, presumed lost to time or perhaps nothing more than a robot boogie man, people began to forget about him. When X, the final creation of Doctor Thomas Light, finds the lost warrior, who turns out to be his older brother Rock Light, things get turned upside down. With humanity at the cusp of complete annihilation, mavericks appearing seemingly out of nowhere, and the rise of Neo Arcadia merely a century away, the question now stands: is the famous hero enough to save humanity from eventual extinction?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-imagining of the Rockman franchise. Everything is mostly rewritten with only the core plot remaining the same. The series that I can say, right now, that are included within the scope of this story are:
> 
> -Rockman/Megaman Classic  
> -Rockman/Megaman X  
> -Rockman.EXE/Megaman Battle Network  
> -Rockman/Megaman Zero
> 
> More or less will most likely be added overtime. It's also worth noting that the series is split up into many different parts (known as arcs). Arcs usually are represented by a specific game, as each game's story is told either in the story's 'real time' or as a series of 'flashbacks'/'revisits'. An arc is often times part of a specific series which means the main plot follows the emphasis of one series. A series could be Rockman Classic or it could be Rockman X, so on so forth. In this way Series 1 Arc 1 are all the chapters that focus the main story on the first game of the classic series, Rockman 1. When an arc begins, ends, and the 'intermission' chapters will all be stated. Make sure to check the notes of each chapter for things like concept art links to help add more depth to the story.
> 
> I hope you enjoy Endless War.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rusted gears turn for the first time in a century. They whine and grind, bringing back to life an eldritch soul with no solid tie to the world at hand other than the integral role he played to the story at large.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept Art for this Chapter: Rock Light  
> https://arlas-project.tumblr.com/post/627310483284918272/line-number-dln-001-name-rock-light-physical

**_SYSTEM ACTIVATION!_ **

**_ERROR LOG:_ **

**_INTENSIVE DAMAGES-- DEACTIVATED ON XX-XX-XXXX AT XX-LONGITUDE, XX-LATITUDE._ **

**_SCANNING FOR INTERNAL MEMORY FAILURE_ **

**_MEMORY INTACT_ **

**_SCANNING FOR WEAPON MEMORY FAILURE_ **

**_COPY ABILITY INTACT_ **

**_ALL COPY WEAPONS INTACT_ **

**_ALL SYSTEMS RESPONSIVE_ **

* * *

“Hello. Please react if you can hear me.”

The voice was far away, a distant echo from a world beyond his dreamless sleep. A single sky blue eye opened to view the world for which he had come to his wits within. The light above him trapped him in a fluorescent Hell. A pounding steam hammer headache raged within his mechanical skull.

A robot with a headache, how strange.

He strained to gaze about the unknown room, shadows lingered all around stretching out from the brilliant light. They laid claim to the room, creating ugly beasts and monsters he could hardly understand. He feared they would reach out to grab him, but none ever did. Instead they outlined the figure of someone else beside him. One with eyes just as blue as his, hair just as brown and messy as his own, overall it was someone who looked so remarkably similar that he couldn’t even stop to doubt their relation.

“Can you understand me?”

He attempted to open his mouth to speak, but his ‘lungs’ wouldn’t allow for it. Instead all he got was the pain of scraping metal trying to do its job of synthesizing words. It was agonizing, enough to just leave him mouthing the words through a damaged jaw. He wondered if his lips could even articulate the letters.

“Yes?” The figure picked up quickly, a smile blossoming on that face. It reminded him of his father.

“I suppose you wouldn’t be able to speak, huh. You are pretty damaged, but nothing I can’t fix. I’m just glad that your cognitive programming is still operational.” The stranger stepped away, he strained his gaze to follow but couldn’t. Resigning himself, in the end, to just staring up at the painful light above.

“I found you within a set of ancient ruins, we were in there hunting for mav--” He stopped, almost as if contemplating. “Actually, never mind. I was on a mission in these ruins and found you in the process. We did some analysis and it suggests that you are at least one hundred years old! I didn’t expect you to boot up at all!”

One-hundred? That couldn’t be right. He couldn’t have been asleep for that long, could he?

The tapping of keys drew his attention back as the thudding of his headache pounded across his conscious mind. A heavy _THUMP, THUMP, THUMP,_ over and over. He wanted to lift his hand up to rub it, but couldn’t get the gears to turn, nor get the artificial muscles to contract in the right way.

“I’m going to power you down again. You need to recharge and I need to make repairs that would be far too much for you to be conscious for. I don’t want you feeling any pain -- that is, if you can feel any pain to begin with.”

A grimace at the thought. He could feel pain. That’s all he felt in the moment. Pain and that throbbing numbing headache.

“Take time to recharge, you need the energy. I’m going to review your memory files to see if we can find out what happened to you.”

He didn’t want to rest, but all the same he didn’t have much of a choice. He felt his consciousness slipping. A fear sparked within him, unsure of when he’d awaken, he hoped it was soon.

Light sparkled beyond closed eyelids.

Memories filtered in like dreams as they played upon the computer screen.

Memories long since suppressed within the dying robot master’s mind. He dreamed for the first time in a century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The rest of this fic contains the following:
> 
> -Major Character Death  
> -War  
> -Gore  
> -Body Horror  
> -Murder  
> -Violence  
> -Allusions to Rape (no rape scenes are present in the story)  
> -Profanity  
> -Characters with radical opinions  
> -Genocide  
> -Suicide  
> -Self Harm  
> -Drug Abuse  
> -Extinction
> 
> And others
> 
> If any of these are a big trigger for you, we recommend not reading further. If you wish to proceed anyways with these triggers in mind, then please read the notes left in each chapter. There will be a full trigger list for every chapter. If there are no triggers for the chapter it'll say so. Some chapters may have triggers that are not listed here, please read at your own discretion. Any distress caused by this story is not the responsibility of the author.
> 
> Please remember that the actions, opinions, and feelings of the characters are in no way reflective of my (the author's) moral feelings. The characters feel the way they do to stand on their own like living people. If a human can have the opinion than a character can to -- this does NOT mean they are my feelings nor does it mean that I condone their actions nor endorse it.
> 
> This story is for adults and as such if adults cannot discern the difference between good actions and bad actions without being told outright, then they shouldn't be reading this story.


	2. Creation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this world, humanity is the powerhouse. They overcome nature and even life. On a cold winter night, as a blizzard rages outside, Doctor Light creates life. Not organic life, no, but life nonetheless. Life that is truly what makes humans, Gods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers in this chapter:  
> Religion

“Good morning, my sweet boy.”

The voice filtered through all the layers of the unconscious mind, imprinting itself into his memory. A long lasting impression that would remain for years to come. Opening his eyes, the reality flooded forth. The world was brilliant, bright white with splotches of color. It was the first time he would see such things.

This was his grand awakening. He would begin, from this moment forth, to be another witness to life as it were. He had never seen a table, yet he knew instinctively what it was. He had never seen a floor, a light, a wall, a computer, yet every single object he knew so intuitively, as if it was imprinted in his mind. A feature that he had not realized yet wasn’t common to modern man. Despite not being able to see inside, and despite not knowing his own internal appearances, he knew the difference between robot and human. Between himself and another.

He was sentient.

The face that greeted him was a stranger, and yet it was all too familiar. Bright blue eyes, round nose, fluffy white hair with a white beard to match. Had he known who Santa Claus was, he’d say that the resemblance was uncanny. He didn’t need to ask to know who he was, he didn’t need to inquire or reach out, only to know that this was a living, breathing organism. That this person came from the womb of a woman unlike himself which was crafted by man’s hands.

“Welcome to the world my child.” The voice began, a deep and calming sound. “Can you understand me?” 

The stranger’s voice was friendly, kind, more gentle than anything he had ever heard. Not like there was much he could have heard up to that point. He was, for all intents and purposes, an infant with no knowledge on where he was or who he was. Yet at the same time he was far beyond just an infant. He knew things that he shouldn’t have known, he understood things that a mere infant could only dream about. Yet where he was, or who he was specifically, was eluding him.

“Y-Yes…”

The word came out fragmented, froggy, and scratchy. The knowledge of speech came instinctively. His brain worked and strained to make the artificial muscles move and the vocal cords echo, but this work did little for the actual sound. He would most certainly have to utilize these weak mechanisms for quite some time before he fell into the natural rhythm of speech and conversation.

“Perfect!” The stranger began once more. “My name is Doctor Thomas Light, I am your creator. You are Rock Light, my son.”

Despite having only been awake, or alive, for mere minutes, he somehow knew this already. His mind whirred with the hidden knowledge, all that was most likely programmed into him. There was no questioning, no need for learning, he did not need to be told who was his creator and who wasn’t. Somehow he could instinctively tell. Maybe it was those loving eyes, that gentle voice, or that kind disposition.

Rock wasn’t sure.

“However, you can call me dad if you’d like.”

Light added, a bit timidly.

A miracle was made that night, the miracle of life within a machine. In this moment humanity proved that they, themselves, could be a God.

Rock wasn’t the only one who was born on this snowy December night. Two miracles had happened as the blizzard raged outside. Another life, one just as precious to the dear Doctor, sparked into being. Dual flames that would forever burn and illuminate the world that they found themselves in.

“Your name is Roll Light.”

That was what Thomas had told her. She too knew that fact instinctively, she did not need to be told, and yet she didn’t mind the reminder.

They were siblings, brother and sister, twins who were born on December 17th as the storm raged outside. They were a family, one that came to life from the darkening days and the lengthening nights.

The Light household was a quiet one with memories that were long since gone. A wife that had died, thousands of failed attempts at conceiving an actual child only to be lost to infertility, the disease of age and sickness that came with not being able to take care of oneself. All of it left its stains and marks on the house, one that reflected upon the old doctor who had created them.

He spent days, weeks, months with them. Tinkering, tweaking, optimizing their designs. They were helper bots, that was their function, but in the end they were something far more than that. They were Thomas Light’s children. 

They learned to clean, to tend to their father, but most importantly they too learned to build themselves. They learned morals and lessons that any child needed to know. They learned how to fix mistakes and how to take responsibility. While they appeared to be merely eleven year old children, they found their personalities and their beliefs.

As the days wore on and the nights continued to grow longer and longer, up until the inevitable climax of shadow, more was discovered about them.

There were a few bugs, little kinks in the pipeline so to speak. For example Roll had an issue with her processor which caused problems in interpretation. Something the doctor was quick to fix. Rock, on the other hand, had a somewhat faulty power core. Something Thomas seemed all too terrified of. He fixed it just as quickly and everything settled back down once again.

In the end they were shaping up to be a perfect family located in a small blooming city in the quiet state of Maryland.

This was proven as the longest night of the year approached and as the Christmas tree sparkled in the darkness of the home. Bright ornaments dangled from thick pine branches. It was a real tree, cut just a few days before Rock and Roll’s arrival, and despite the fact that they could not leave the home due to the blizzard, the two were more than happy to gaze in awe at the glow of the tree.

Light, a humble Christian man, took Christmas rather seriously and he had dedicated himself to making sure that the children’s first holiday was memorable. Despite the continuing blizzard, one that had knocked their power out a few times, leading to them relying solely on a generator, he made sure that the children were able to open presents, play games, and recharge.

Sure there were a few children’s spats, what eleven year-olds don’t fight among themselves when they aren’t fully mature, but for the most part everything was perfect. These children were all Thomas could have ever wanted.

He truly believed that his creations were a success in more ways than one.

What he didn’t know, however, was the domino effect he had now set up. And the world that he had created as a trade off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept Art for this chapter: Roll Light  
> https://arlas-project.tumblr.com/post/627311092601896960/line-number-dln-002-name-roll-light-physical
> 
> ~~
> 
> Every Sunday until the end of this arc there will be a new chapter. This will remain the pattern for every arc unless there is a massive change in my schedule. Regardless there will be a new chapter a week, read the notes to see when there will be hiatuses between arcs/series.


	3. Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Light succeeded in creating life, he had, for all intents and purposes, become a God. However he refused to stop at Rock and Roll. He stands on stage, unveiling his newest creations. The beginning of robots as we know them, the first six 'robot masters'. When he spots an old friend, Doctor Albert Wily, in the crowd, he seals the fate of the world on that faithful day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers in this chapter:  
> Home Break-ins  
> Mentions of Crimes and Violence  
> Mentions of alcohol and alcoholism

“I don’t know kids, I don’t think I can do this.”

“Don’t be silly, Papa! We know you can!”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely positive, it’s just a small crowd of fifty people.”

“Fifty!?”

Doctor Thomas Light leaned against one of the tables of the venue, he felt his pulse pick up and his breathing grow shallow. He hated crowds, it was one of his many infinite fears from childhood. There were so many occasions where he had felt the clammy hands and twisting knots of stage fright in his career. Most of them, however, were minimized due to the fact he was before his peers. Now, however, this was his first independent project under his own robotics company’s name. With this in mind, he knew for a fact he was going to have to convince the people, who knew absolutely nothing, what a good thing he had created. That, in of itself, was daunting.

“Papa, please take deep breaths.”

Roll took one of his hands in her own, making eye contact with her creator, before taking a deep breath in, followed by a long and slow exhale. Light mimicked her, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“Everything will be alright, just do it exactly how we rehearsed. You know your lines, you just have to say them.” Rock chimed in, a smile blossoming across his face. That smile could reassure any man within seconds.

“Thank you children. I suppose I’m just not used to such… large crowds.”

“It’s alright, we all get stage fright sometimes.”

Rock nodded along with his sister’s words, almost as though they had ever stood and given a presentation in front of a crowd in the past. The fact of the matter was that they were more often relegated to sitting on the sidelines. The one time they were shown to the public, they hid behind their father’s leg, small children far too terrified of their first trip out into the world.

Since then they had grown and had found that the world outside of their home was just as beautiful as the world within. There was so much to do and love. The fear dissipated just like the cold of winter.

“Doctor,” They collectively jumped at the sudden voice, turning to see the event organizer standing there with a pair of sunglasses and a headset on. “You are on in ten minutes, please come to the stage shortly.”

She rushed off, leaving the small family of three speechless in her wake.

“Is it that time already?”

Light pulled up his sleeve, studying the bright red watch on his wrist. It looked more like something out of a toy store than a watch for a grown man. Its plastic exterior and ticking face was far too small for his wrist, the dents and cracks showed that it was as ancient as his youth.

“Oh dear! I have to get up there! I love you both very much, I will see you when I’m done!”

The children didn’t have time to say goodbye before their nervous, and breathless, creator went running out to the stage. He had his briefcase in his hand and was already working on unlocking it as he went. They watched, from their spot just offstage, as he pulled papers out and organized them.

He attempted to look calm and collected as he adjusted all the papers and was given a microphone. They could see, however, that in those bright blue eyes, he was terrified of all the strangers looking at him.

Light tested the mic a few times before settling into his speech. He waited for his cue to tell him that they had the cameras rolling and everything set. The light felt blinding, overheating, from where he stood. Yet he was grateful for the overwhelming lot of it as he couldn’t see the countless faces fixated on him. They all looked to be just blank slates, almost like mannequins.

“Ladies and Gentleman,” Light began after clearing his voice, “as of late we have entered an era of peace. An era of calm and tranquility, where there is little fighting and the most we have to worry about is whether or not we will do good by our bosses, co-workers, children, and spouses. We have entered an era of productivity and evolution.”

“While it is true that there is no war, there is still danger and tragedy. Just a few months ago we even heard about a construction worker who fell ten stories off of the unfinished building on the corner of Wright and Mist street, located in the downtown area. These accidents are not unheard of, they happen at a rate that is far too scary to be comprehended. The idea that we would leave the comfort of our beds to go to a job that is needed to make a living, and never come back, leaving our children, spouses, pets, and relatives alone; is heart wrenching. Especially when you remember that the man who passed wasn’t doing anything wrong, it was the safety precautions which had failed him, for that is all they are, precautions.”

“In fact, according to the International Labour Organization, 2.3 million -- not 2 hundred, mind, 2.3 **_million_ ** \-- workers will die this year of workplace accidents or related diseases. That number is far too high, especially for human life. As such I have a proposition. One to hopefully, eventually, drop that 2.3 million all the way down to, at most, two thousand nine hundred tragedies per year. That is at most. I cannot promise to reduce everything, but I will try to, because the lives of the working class are ones that matter.”

He approached the tarp which hung over massive lumps all across the stage. He grasped ahold of the white fabric, ready to rip it off, just waiting for his own cue to do as such. The further he got along in his presentation, the more confident he became, the more risks he took, and the better of a performance he mustered up.

“My solution to this problem is what I have gathered you all here for. Behold! The robot masters!”

Light grabbed hold of the tarp, his knuckles white with anticipation and anxiety, and began to yank it off of the figures. They stood there, lifeless and hollow, underneath all of the lights. Six beautifully crafted robots, sparkling under the blinding flashes of camera lenses, enticing oohs and aahs from the audience as they watched on in amazement.

“To start we have DLN-003, Cutman!”

He gestured towards the orange robot master, standing rather short compared to his brethren, with a pair of scissors atop his head. Massive and somewhat intimidating, but all the same proof enough of this crazy plan Doctor Light had, possibly being an overwhelming success.

“I know that he may be rather bizarre in how he appears, but I promise there is a reason behind the madness. He will reduce the danger of lumbering forces by a staggering 95%! Ordering the robots who take care of lumber yards himself and keeping things running at peak performance. Best of all his program states that he is to prioritize the safety of humans over all else. If he feels that a human may be in danger, at all, he is to get them as far from the situation as possible and handle the danger in a way that prioritizes human safety the most. I doubt, however, that he will wind up in such a dilemma. His programming includes every safety protocol and regulation ever enforced upon the human workforce as well as outcome prediction. All courteous of Light Labs.”

Light took a moment to hear the applause from the crowd before he moved on, gesturing next to the behemoth of a robot master which stood beside the small, nimble, lumber bot.

“He’s big, he’s strong, and he’s going to take the danger out of all major construction projects, next is DLN-004, Gutsman!”

He gestured to the robot, emphasizing his stature and obvious strength. The dully colored body was easy to spot, no doubt would it stand out in a construction yard, and yet it became apparent it would be right at home in a place like that all the same.

“This robot master works fast and efficiently, able to lift 400 times his body weight. That’s more than a Blue Whale weighs! His programming makes him an expert at following instructions and spotting the flaws in architecture with a 99% success rate. His abilities also permit him to take as much time as he needs in order to prioritize the safety and security of his crew mates. The battery that he is charged with allows him to work all on his own, without the need of a crew, even during construction off hours, thus allowing for the project to go even deep into the night. While he does prioritize efficiency, more so than the robot master before him, he is still one to take human safety and security to be the first priority above all else”

Another round of applause, Light didn’t wait this time as he was onto the next best thing. Placing his hand atop the head of the smallest robot master of the line, he appeared even smaller next to Gutsman.

“This little guy may appear small, but he truly is an efficient masterpiece. This is DLN-005, Iceman.”

The robot in question was covered head to toe in snow gear. Bright blue parka and pants, with dark boots and cute white gloves to boot. The crowd appeared to be infatuated with the tiny, heavily dressed robot. One that they seemed to take to more for his cuteness than anything else.

“This robot master is built for efficiency. Designed to work in the arctic circle, where days and nights often are interchangeable in length, he is programmed less for saving humans himself, but for keeping them out of danger. He goes into all the dangerous situations that any human may need to go into, and handles the problems for them. If they need to go out into a blizzard to fix a power outage, they can send him out instead. If they need to go outside in the night to radio for supplies, he will do it for them. Not only that but he is trained, certified, and programmed to handle the health of his crew. Knowing not only first-aid but also how to save lives through minor surgery! As an added bonus he’s programmed with the necessary information on the daily nutrition a human needs to live a healthy lifestyle in such a turbulent environment! The best robot you could have with you when you are in the arctic circle, that’s for sure!”

The applause hardly registered to him, he was so far into the swing of things that he couldn’t handle stopping and losing momentum. The fear was that if he stopped or slowed down then he’d get choked up, he wasn’t going to let that happen. As such he was already onto the next robot master.

“The next robot is truly an explosive hit! DLN-006, Bombman!”

Nobody laughed at the joke, but that was quite alright, he was too busy gesturing at the overwhelming robot master behind him. Round body which complimented his name, a yellow figure beneath it, all matching Gutsman but standing out just as much. An evident feature to show they were a duet in the field.

“Bombman was designed to work alongside Gutsman in construction. His body is capable of creating small bombs that are able to level patches of land in order to speed up construction. His controlled charges are closely monitored, designed specifically with human safety in mind. Bombman even has a transmitter in his head that allows him to pick up on radio and communicate with others in a swift and streamlined manner. Talking to them almost as though on portable radio in order to deem the proper clearance of the area. Despite his rather powerful ability, he is programmed to be very careful when working with humans, preferring to set off the charges when he knows that the human crews are away or far off the premises. He is somewhat of the brains to go alongside Gutsman. The two of them make sure that each other’s programming is functioning properly.”

The crowd continued to ooh and aah at the ongoing explanation of each robot and their functions. They were buying into everything that the doctor was saying, much to Rock and Roll’s delight off stage.

“Next on our line is DLN-007, Fireman!”

Light, with the confidence he had newly acquired, gently patted the robot on the shoulder. It did not move, but it made it almost more lifelike as it stood there stock still, unmoving, and unblinking. With steel armor and a fiery disposition, even without the flame atop his head burning, it was obvious what Fireman was designed to endure. His workload was just as big of a blaze as his creator’s demeanor and determination.

“Imagine what would happen if the entire world was a trash heap. Incinerators often do not work at maximum efficiency, nevermind the fact that if something breaks down then humans have to put themselves in danger to fix it. That’s where Fireman comes in. His flame burns at a hot enough rate that he can incinerate even the most difficult of trash. Not only that but he’s programmed to recognize and fix efficiency issues. Nevermind that he is also programmed to take the route that will help save our planet! He is our one stop crew for garbage disposals. He will keep the world clean for us so we can focus our energy, as humanity, on other projects. Not only that, but I programmed him with a wonderful personality to attempt to bring more spirit to the garbage men who pass along, hopefully lowering the suicide rate of such individuals exponentially.”

The applause at that last comment was off the charts. Somehow promising less people dying of their own hand seemed to grant the best responses. Light was glad that his projects were getting praise, and he truly did believe that having a beacon of light like Fireman may help those who were unsatisfied with their work.

“Last but not least, we have DLN-008, Elecman.”

He smiled a large grin to the most human robot of the bunch. No doubt proud of his handiwork. It didn’t look like the most impressive of the robots, but it was definitely one of the more memorable.

“This robot right here is the revolution of energy! He is built to handle the dangerous jobs of power plants. He gets his energy not from charging pods and outlets, but instead from static electricity and blown circuits! He is able to absorb excess energy in power plants into his body and store it for later, effectively powering himself for days and saving countless cities from electrical meltdown in the process! Not only that, but by doing so he prevents endangering human lives in the process. This robot master here is going to change the face of robotics.”

His claims were robust, but the audience most certainly didn’t find them without applause or praise. They didn’t even have proof, and yet they were so eager to accept the promises as reality. Rightly so. Many of Light’s projects have turned into success stories, why would this be any different?

The cheer and fanfare was a deafening chorus, Rock and Roll made eye contact, nodding to each other. They knew what their father had done, he had succeeded in not only appealing to everyone, but also in overcoming the stage fright that used to cause him to just choke up on stage. Sure he stumbled, sure he skipped over some lines, but it didn’t matter. The crowd was a cacophony of questions and interest.

This would promise that their projects would continue deep into the future, and that’s all that they could have ever asked for.

Questions came and went, people asked and people satisfied themselves. With the passage of time, the crowd began to dissipate. The event was coming to a close, something that was a relief to everyone involved.

As the presentation wrapped up, Rock and Roll made their way tentatively up onto the stage. They remembered when they stood here for a small expose of what people were to expect of Light Labs in the future. It was small, no more than ten people, definitely a large leap to the fifty people who came today.

Rock sat on the edge of the stage, watching as the people went. Their chattering was audible, but not enough to make out. A popsicle hung from the child’s mouth as he attempted to keep his inner workings cool in the hot summer sun.

“Papa!” Roll cried as she ran up to her dad to lock him into an embrace. Rock couldn’t understand how she had so much energy on a day that got as hot as this. “You did amazing out there!”

“Thank you, dear. But truly, I am not the one that should be congratulated. I did the talking, but it was you two who did all the work.”

Rock leaned back, his eyes looked up to his father as he embraced his sister. There was curiosity there which meant the infamous ‘Rock Light Curiosity’ was about to come into play.

“Why do you say that, Papa?”

Light smiled, leaning over and ruffling the hair of his robotic son. There was gratitude in those aged eyes, blurred only by the heat waves as they distorted the vision of those who gazed unblinking for too long.

“It was you two who wrote my speech, who helped me practice, and not only that but also helped me to build the robot masters in the first place. If it weren’t for you two I wouldn’t have reached my deadline, nor would I have been able to stand up on this stage and give such a wonderful speech! Truly, thank you.”

Thomas reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. The two of them watched as the doctor went to wipe off the smudges of chocolate that had dripped onto the small boy’s face.

“You’re welcome, Papa!” Rock began.

“We were just happy to see you do so well up there.” Roll finished.

The blonde moved over to the edge of the stage, sitting down right next to her brother. Both with their legs suspended over the ledge. They looked so similar, were it not for their hair then Light would say they could be carbon copies of each other. Their height was the same, their eyes were the same, their tiny noses and long eyelashes, all the same. Plump cheeks, big grins, innocent expressions -- so perfect in his eyes.

Yet he couldn’t relax seeing the two of them sitting there.

“Do me a favor, you two, and move away from the ledge.”

They weren’t in danger of falling, he knew that, but images of Rock falling from a tree and quite literally smashing his leg made the doctor queasy. Needless to say the child learned not to climb onto a tree branch without testing it, if he was to climb up into trees again to begin with.

The two followed instructions, proving just how well behaved they were. They didn’t question, assuming just what their creator was feeling.

“We should do something special to celebrate such a successful performance!” Roll shouted suddenly.

“What do you have in mind?” Rock inquired.

She thought about this for a while, rising to her feet as she did so. Her eyes focused on Fireman before it clicked into her head.

“Oh I know! How about we go home and I make a  **_HUGE_ ** dinner for us!” She spread her arms out wide as though trying to illustrate just how big the dinner was going to be. They knew it wasn’t going to be so massive, but the thought was nice.

“That would be wonderful, sweetie.” Light encouraged with a clap of his hands, he didn’t mind the idea whatsoever.

“Wait, what are we having?” Rock chimed.

“Just because you asked,” Roll’s voice held a harshness and cruelty that the boy wasn’t expecting. “I’ll make pork chops!”

“Whaaaaaaaat!?” Rock whined. “But your pork chops are so fatty. I can hardly chew them.”

Was it any surprise that after he said this the two began to argue. Their words became venomous quickly. It wasn’t anything too awful, a sibling’s spat, but it was enough to test Light’s patience. The doctor worked quickly to break up the argument and quell their aggression. For the most part it worked. When things had settled down, they began to make the long trek to the parking lot and, in addition, to find their car. They spent a good thirty minutes before they managed to locate the old, rustic van.

The trio stood at their car while they watched the moving company work on loading the robot masters back into their storage crates and into the truck. They would be moved back to Light Labs and right back to safety and security. Rock and Roll understood their father’s anxiety as he watched them, like a hawk, load the robot masters up into the back of the vehicle. 

They spent months working on them, they too were very protective of such work. Even if it meant standing out in the blistering heat, they’d understand their creator’s wishes and desires.

When the loading crew was finished, Rock and Roll began to climb into the old, beat up van. However, they were surprised to find that their father wasn’t getting in with them. He was just standing there, staring.

His eyes were fixated on a figure in the parking lot, one that had maintained eye contact with him. A one Doctor Albert Wily.

“Papa? What are you doing?” Roll inquired worriedly, effectively snapping Light out of his stupor.

“Ah… it’s nothing, sweetie. Let’s go.”

With that he closed all the car doors and climbed into the driver’s seat. He started the car, pulled it into reverse, and pulled out of the parking lot. As he passed, Wily was nowhere to be seen. The doctor wondered if, for a moment, he had hallucinated his rival to be standing there. Afterall, last he heard Wily was in jail for starting, and subsequently ending, countless bar fights.

“Are you okay?” Rock asked, once more bringing Light to the here and now as they drove down the road back home.

“Yes, I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Light looked up into the rearview mirror for a second, making eye contact with his son and smiling at him, before returning back to concentrating on the road.

In the end, Light was mournful over the destruction of their friendship.

The house was dark when they arrived, not to anyone’s surprise. With the sun streaming oranges and yellows across the massive sky, it was no wonder that the encroaching night would perforate the place they called home. However, it was not all-encompassing. One flick of the light switch and everything was back to what it was.

“We’re home!”

Rock exclaimed energetically, following a self-enforced tradition that he had been keeping up with since the first time he had ever stepped outside into the grass and the sunshine. Of course there was nobody waiting for them, nobody to respond with ‘welcome home’, just silence. But that didn’t matter to Rock. To him, he was informing the house itself that its tenants were back.

“I’m going to get started on dinner.”

Roll stated as she made sure all the shoes were in the proper cubbies by the front door. She hated the mess that her father and brother made, granted they were never big messes, but it was still disorganization. Something that went directly against her coding.

“Alright, do be careful.” Light requested to which he was met with an, “Of course!” in response.

As his two children went off to do their own things, Rock immediately settling down with a book and Roll going off to do chores, Light began to move to his laboratory to check in on the delivery of the robot masters.

He didn’t expect them to be there, quite the contrary. He expected them to come a bit later than he had arrived. What he didn’t account for was the fact he was held up in the parking lot with Wily, thus it was a pleasant surprise to find that the entire line was present in the laboratory when he opened the door.

Their faces were peaceful, no longer in that doll-like awakened stance. Eyes closed, bodies relaxed, completely content in their rest. Light approached the robots, tentative and cautious. He wasn’t afraid of them, quite the contrary. He loved them as if they were his children, in a way they were. Just like Rock and Roll, they were his creations. Granted they weren’t intended for home -- they were intended for work.

That didn’t change a thing however. Light still loved them as if they were his own. He would do anything to keep them safe, despite the fact that he knew with the jobs they were undertaking, they most certainly would be put into danger every step of the way. But that was what their programming entailed.

He hoped that, despite all of this, they would still come back home every now and again, just to say hello and find a respite from the hardships of their duties as robot masters and labor workers. 

The night passed in this familiar fashion. Light admiring and daydreaming about his creations, tossing about more new ideas in his head. Rock reading and honing his mind into the rather long novel he was taking in, enthralled with the story and the characters. Roll cooking and cleaning, keeping the house in tip-top shape and making sure that the plans for the next day were well accounted for.

They ate dinner, they laughed, they watched television, everything was normal. Normal as could possibly be. The family got ready for bed, settled down, and drifted off into the deepest of sleep. The night surrounded them. Rock and Roll in their shared room, Light in his own bedroom which was once shared with a second person. The silence was a tranquil reprieve available only here, on the outskirts of the city.

The bright sunlight aroused everyone from their peaceful slumber, the morning air was all that they needed to get moving. Roll was quick to get into the kitchen, now in her flowing red dress she began to commence her morning routine. The kettle hissed momentarily as it was set upon the stove. As it began to simmer she checked all the rooms of the house.

As Light and Rock were watching television, morning cartoons specifically as neither were very particular about the news, Roll found that the door to the lab was unlocked. To the sound of Tom and Jerry she pressed it open gently, wondering if, maybe, her father had forgotten to lock it last night. She hoped, with anxiety in her chest, that it just drifted open in the night. Perhaps it was a gust of wind? 

The automatic lights came on, introducing a terrible truth into their reality.

“They’re gone!”

The response was immediate. Rock and Light were into the lab in an instant. The robots were looking high and low for any signs of what had happened, all the while Light was trying to figure out if the logs had shown anything. Low and behold, there in the logs, someone had hacked into the program to open the charging pods. The robot masters were stolen in the night while they were resting.

“Quick, turn on the news!”

Light had a sinking feeling in his gut as his order was answered. The children turned the lab’s television on, tuning it to the morning news broadcast just in time for the announcer to begin on a new story.

_ ‘It appears there are rogue robots of unknown origin attacking the city. Six in total, they have taken over key buildings and are threatening mass termination under the orders of an unknown perpetrator. Local authorities have issued a lockdown as they attempt to apprehend the robots. Police are urging people to stay indoors and, if they can, remain as far away from outlets and windows as possible.’ _

The information shocked them all into silence. They were unsure how to proceed with the devastating news. Tension was only broken when Roll finally spoke up, having found a letter in her search.

“Papa, I think you should read this.”

In sloppy scrawl, the letter read as follows:

_ Dear Thomas, _

_ I have stolen your precious robot masters and with them I will spell the end of your research. Call it revenge for how you destroyed me in college.  _

_ Your old friend, _

_ -Wily _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept Art for this chapter: Doctor Thomas Light  
> https://arlas-project.tumblr.com/post/627918413800652800/name-doctor-thomas-light-age-51-years-old
> 
> ~~
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading this chapter, see you all next week!


	4. Bombman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is coming down in a cascade of shimmering pyrotechnics and explosions. As Bombman takes over downtown Arcadia, the world becomes privy to what Wily's plan is to a degree. Human lives are not worth anything in the eyes of the scientist, and Rock has to take him down. Even if it means dying then and there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers in this chapter:  
> Blood/Gore  
> Terrorism  
> Explosions  
> Violence  
> Murder/Death  
> Body Horror

“Be careful, Rock!”

The voice was appreciated but not one he wanted to hear as he attempted to recover from the ringing in his ears. The charge was massive, raising a good portion of the landscaping with it. He was just grateful he managed to evacuate most of the hostages in time.

The red that pooled in the street was hideous, it reeked of iron and gunpowder. A finger drifted lazily in the crimson stream, almost like a sailboat.

“I’m trying to be.”

He responded, attempting to block out the cries of pain and the gargling death moans. He had saved most of the people who were trapped in the overtaken downtown area, but not all of them. In the end an office building had come down and with it the lives of so many were snuffed out. A silhouette was in the distance when it had fallen, leading to Rock digging many out of the rubble, but where the silhouette was he couldn’t tell.

“Who are you?” Someone had asked him. He didn’t have much of an answer, just looked at them and responded with a quiet, “Nobody.”

There was just no time for introductions, nor was there time to waste on answering questions. These people were as much out of harm’s way as he could allot. If they couldn’t protect themselves from here, then there wasn’t much he could do. Rock swallowed hard and pushed on. He couldn’t focus on those who died, he had to focus on the many more who would follow suit if he didn’t do anything.

The city was infested with lesser robots, ones that Rock took care of easily with the weaponry that Light had given to him. He cleared out all he could, dealing with the infestation manually. For every robot he deactivated, he grieved a little bit internally. He wanted to save them, but at the same time he took solace in knowing they were just mindless husks following after the orders of Bombman himself.

Glass shattered above him as another charge went off, sending metal beams from another one of the buildings raining down upon him.

Rock bolted for cover as fast as he could, avoiding being impaled by mere centimetres. The steel beam had taken a bit of his suit, but for the most part he was in one piece. 

There was nothing but silence above him, an indicator that the building had been emptied a long time ago. No bodies jumping to their death, no blood pouring forth, nothing of that caliber.

Just pure silence.

Such dangers were all about the downtown city. Fires raged, people cried in fear as they were running into the arms of police and first respondents, bombs continued to detonate. Some killing who knows how many, some just causing mindless destruction, the bombs continued to pound their mark into the city-scape. The rubble and the smoke clouded the entirety of the sky, making a storm of destruction which bellowed over those who were there to witness it.

According to his gps, he was nearing the epicenter of the disaster. He no longer had time to save the people who were dying, he no longer had time to save those who were hurt, he had to stop the destruction from the source. He bounded over body parts and bolted through rubble.

A woman was impaled on a spire of metal.

A child was crushed to death under heavy stone slabs.

A body drifted in the river of blood burned beyond recognition.

Rock gagged, wincing as he turned away from the horrible sights. He couldn’t stand it. Everything in his programming forbade him from even being around such things, now he was going into the line of fire to do something he was never intended to. What kind of robot was he?

_ ‘One that didn’t follow orders.’ _

His thoughts were quick and snapped back without hesitation.

He supposed it was right as he took aim at a met running at him. He shot without hesitation, the reaffirmation came to him in the form of his defensive destruction. It blew into a million pieces, shrapnel spraying out in a shimmering display of wiring and oil, sparkling in the light of the shot. The oil bubbled along the stream of blood. It traveled, as though it were sentient, down the hill.

He wasn’t following orders, not even remotely. Light told him to save hostages and let the police handle Bombman, but he couldn’t. His sense of justice wouldn’t give him the opportunity to just hide away. Not only that but what about the police officers? Wouldn’t they be in more danger that way? He felt scared, horrified even. He wanted to throw up, to close his eyes and never open them until it was all over, but he knew that wasn’t really an option anymore.

He was already at the end of the line.

The epicenter of the madness was a small warehouse. He knew what he would find in here. Bombman, no doubt, with a stockpile of explosives just raring to go. The small robot bit the inside of his cheek, fear overtaking him almost completely. It turned his legs to jello, his feet into stone, his arms into hanger wire, so on so forth. He didn’t want to kill one of his brothers, especially before he met him, but he also didn’t want people to die any longer.

The crossroad he found himself at was an awful and ugly fork in the road where he had to make the decision. To move on, or to turn back. He had mostly removed the dangers from the downtown area, but all the same they would return.

He pressed his small body up against the cool metal door. It gave way and rolled up quickly before him. He watched as it clicked its way up, higher and higher into the building like the maw of a great beast opening up to swallow him whole. Yet despite this, despite the box shaped teeth and the moist gunpowder breath, he stepped within.

In the quiet maw he began to take inventory of himself. His body was a canvas of blood, gore, and muscle matter. He flicked a bit of brain from his helmet, pulled out a bit of a bone fragment from under his cheek, shook out intestines that were wedged into his boots. He hated seeing it, but didn’t much like it on him either.

There was grief here, he felt it in his heart, but all the same there was hatred. If this robot master hadn’t done something so awful, then he would’ve been able to stay home and be happy. If only that Wily, whoever he was, hadn’t taken his revenge in such an awful way; a way that cost hundreds of lives, then he would have still been home watching Tom and Jerry with a piece of bacon in his mouth.

The scream of a woman rose from the short term memory banks for which he was beginning to commit into full memory.

A child weeping as he attempted to pull them out from the rubble.

A police officer wailing like a baby as his leg was taken clean off.

This went beyond just destruction, this destroyed lives. That child would never be seen by her mother. That woman would never be able to see her family again. That police officer would never be able to walk. Life would be changed forever by those who knew them and who saw them.

Their lives were taken from them in one way or another.

The rage was overwhelming, a burning fire in his chest which caused Rock to jump forward. He pushed the door ahead of him up, delving willingly into the pit of the beast’s stomach.

“Bombman!”

The lights flashed on, blinding him only momentarily, before revealing all that he expected. The explosives, the robot henchmen, the lynchpin behind the massacre. There was no grief behind those hollow eyes, yet there was life. There was hatred and destruction, hardly anything like what the tests portrayed.

This was someone different.

“Well, if it isn’t a cute little kid. What, did your mama send you in here to ask me to stop? Don’t forget please and thank you.”

Bombman’s voice was harsh, coated with a faux playful tone, but hiding a spiteful and cruel interior. He tossed a bomb up and down in his hand as though waiting for the right moment to blast Rock to kingdom come.

“I suppose you could say that.”

Rock allowed for his arm to change, the buster manifesting as he took aim. Eyes narrowed and focused upon the robot master before him. There was an unforgiving and intimidating gaze there. Somewhere deep in the blue pits of his eyes was an almost subconscious desire. A craving for the chaos and a chance to be someone he most certainly was not.

But who doesn’t want to be a superhero?

“Surrender now, Bombman, or I  _ will _ deactivate you.”

He didn’t want to say kill, but in the end that could be what he was actually doing. The buster powered up with a whir, yellow light beginning to manifest from within. He didn’t need to charge, he just wanted to.

“The little kid has quite the tongue!” 

Bombman stood from his chair of lifeless henchmen. Rock worried they were active, and yet when the robot master stood, they collapsed into a pile of junk behind him. Just as soulless as the corpses in the street.

This was quickly becoming a robot’s graveyard.

“I can’t wait to blow it out of your face. Imagine what that little face will look like when fireworks take off all the framework below the nose. Will your tongue hang out like a worm? Will birds find it tasty?”

Rock stood unyielding, unmoving, as the robot master approached him. He had seen what had happened out in the streets, and while coming face to face with the robot that caused it all to happen was intimidating, nothing could be as terrifying as what he saw out there.

“Let’s just hope you take my arm with it.”

Rock moved in a flash, taking aim and shooting, not as if there was much to aim at when the other was at point blank range. Bombman was taken off guard but weathered the blow regardless. The child was in shock that the other was still standing. Bombman reached for him and his reflexes were not enough to avoid his grasp.

Lifting the boy into the air, kicking and thrashing, Bombman was quick to throw him across the room into a pile of gunpowder. Rock coughed, struggling to find his footing in the soot colored dirt.

“Tough talk for someone with such a weak blaster.”

His body filled with a stinging pain as he rose, wood shards were embedded deeply into his back, causing dark oil to ooze forth. Oil -- what would be the equivalent of blood to them. It kept everything functioning with one catch.

It was highly flammable.

When the bomb rolled towards him, the boy had a much faster reaction. The spark of the fuse was all the incentive he needed. He ran as far as he could before a blinding flash turned the warehouse into a blazing inferno.

Crate after crate exploded in a ruckus, one louder than the trumpets of revelations. Bright white light led the child to believe he was dead, if only for a moment, until his sight returned to him.

Smoke was quick to come rushing in, it filled his chest and caused him to begin retching and coughing. It burned his throat and mouth as he spat out all the gunk that was collecting in there. A high pitch whine prevailed in his ears, ripping his mind open and causing him to stumble. He knew this couldn’t have been normal, especially since it was keeping him from hearing anything else. Did his artificial eardrums burst? Was the explosion that detrimental?

Rock struggled to find Bombman, but his vision was spotty as it adjusted to the burning blaze. The stumbling from his thrown off balance did not help in any case. He peered left and right, facing waves of heat in each direction. It assaulted his features and his exposed robotic skin. His suit was torn, revealing burned prosthetic flesh beneath. The pain would’ve been tolerable if not for the pulsing heat, which made it nothing but unbearable.

His hearing finally returned just in time for him to hear a cry of aggression. He whirled around to see Bombman charging at him through the flames.

Rock let out a cry as he attempted to dodge out of the way. A second too late, the clock ticked in his head as a bomb detonated right by his leg.

The agony was impossible.

At first he was numb to the pain, shock overtaking him as he was unaware of just how badly he was hurt. But eventually those blue eyes saw that his entire leg, from the knee down, was blown clear off.

A tangled mess of wires and pools of oil were all that remained. He felt tears brimming in his eyes as it became painfully apparent just how ill prepared he was for this confrontation. He let out a shaky sob before wailing out to the sky in pure pain, revealing that he truly was nothing but a child.

A break in the flames.

Fight or flight was engaged. How he wanted to run, but he couldn’t. Not as Bombman was charging towards him. He had to figure something out before he was killed here. Rock sniffled as he looked around, trying to find something, anything, to save him. His breath grew more and more shallow as the overwhelming figure charged towards him. Bombman got so close that Rock could see the faux skin under his helmet.

That’s when he saw it, his saving grace, the thing that would keep him alive. He aimed, with tears in his eyes, up to the ceiling.

He prayed to a God he never knew in hopes that this would work. He imagined that God’s face as best he could, hoping that there was such a thing as an afterlife for robots. The ‘tears’ burned as they ran down his face and stained his skin a light blue color.

The blast from his rock buster was painful, his shoulder was badly burnt, but it didn’t matter. He’d rather be hurting than be dead.

Bombman’s hand enclosed around his neck and he could see the bomb he held in his hand, ready to take off his entire upper half. Rock closed his eyes, attempting not to hear the laughter from his soon to be victorious opponent. He had failed, and it was obvious. He had failed every life that was cowering in fear of the rogue bot. He fully anticipated to hear a bang and have it all end.

A bang did come.

It was followed by a heavy crash as Rock was thrown to the ground. As soon as he realized the grip had released him, he pulled himself away as fast as he could. He hopped on his somewhat together leg, attempting to escape the inferno.

He collapsed partly on the way, falling onto the concrete. He peered back to see that the plan he had worked out, succeeded. One of the countless beams above them, already weakened by fire, was a perfect target. He had sworn he missed, but nothing of that sort happened. Instead it came down with a crack and buried Bombman with it. Miraculously saving his life.

“Papa… I did it…”

Rock whispered as he felt consciousness fade. He shut down moments later from damage, the soul survivor from this encounter as the inferno raged around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept Art for this chapter: Bombman (Armored)  
> https://arlas-project.tumblr.com/post/628544598716940288/line-number-dln-006-name-bombman-physical-age
> 
> ~~
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading this chapter, see you all next week!


	5. Craftsmanship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After defeating Bombman, Rock is thrown into a state of rest. Here he reminisces, as he is being repaired in the lab, over how hopeful he was about the robot masters that were going into the world. Realizing a little too late just how far away that dream has become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers in this chapter:  
> War (mention)  
> Butterfly Effect

_ A lemon slice bobbed in a shimmering glass of ice water. It bounced slowly and melodically, following the rhythm of the wind. A droplet of condensation ran along the glass before plummeting to the ground and splattering in silence. _

_ The sun overhead was harsh, but not unpleasant as it warmed their skin and the world about them. The robot masters, still nothing but husks without programming, were sitting on white tables with their insides open to the world. _

_ Light worked tediously as he put all the parts together, screwing and unscrewing, winding and unwinding -- he created his dream in reality. _

_ Roll approached him, the cup of lemon water in her hand, settling it down on the bench next to his work table. She watched as the doctor picked up the drink and sipped it absently before returning to work. _

_ There was no hesitation there, he was so enveloped in his project that he couldn’t even process the idea that the drink he sipped on wasn’t there a second earlier. Roll didn’t mind, however, she knew he was grateful even if he didn’t say it. _

_ She walked away, passing her brother in the process, who was just as enveloped in the work his father was doing. Unlike his sister, Rock was programmed to help Light in building robots, he was something of an assistant, handing him tools, holding cogs in place, doing whatever he could to help the doctor with his work. _

_ He knew the innards of a robot perfectly, programmed with schematics and building procedures. The child was the best assistant Light could ask for. He matched his movements perfectly, handing him tool after tool, screwing screw after screw, and ensuring that everything was moving as smoothly as a conveyor belt. _

_ The robot masters beneath their fingers were coming together nicely. Their appearance blissful as they laid in the sunlight, eyes closed to the world and power low. One day they would open their eyes, Light and Rock both knew this, and they would be able to live just like them. _

_ What would they do? That’s what they wondered. _

_ Would Cutman become the lead robot in land development? Would he be contracted by a lumber company? Would he grow to become a sensation in the human workforce? Maybe he will also plant trees to replenish the weakening supply? _

_ Would Gutsman build mighty skyscrapers? Would he be responsible for all the beautiful buildings of future cities? Would he create a concrete utopia that is just as beautiful as the wilderness beyond -- but in a different way? _

_ Would Bombman be able to advance the way humans proceed with construction? Would he save any lives? Would he teach humans about respect for robots? What sort of personality would he garner from his explosive powers? _

_ Would Fireman clean this city, maybe even this planet? Would he increase the efficiency of the world? Would he truly be able to brighten the lives of those who spend their days cleaning after others? _

_ Would Iceman be a remarkable researcher? Able to find out all things of the landscapes too dangerous for any human to touch? Could he possibly even save a research group in the process? What will he learn up there at the poles? _

_ Would Elecman truly become the face to new, green energy? Will he be the revolution they needed to save their planet from human inspired destruction? Will he be the turning point to show that the planet could be better? _

_ Nobody knew, nobody would know until months had passed. There were thousands of theories but none of them could be proven. The most they could do is dream and hope that there would be something incredible. _

_ The destruction that would be caused was hardly a prediction. Neither of them expected there to be hundreds of lives lost. Neither of them anticipated the stream of blood or the dangerous explosives that would practically level tens of office buildings with one fell swoop. There was no expectation of what Wily would have done, for all Light knew, his old friend was locked away somewhere for aggravated assault. _

_ A butterfly fluttered past, the only thing able to snap them out of their working rush, as it landed on Fireman’s nose right in front of their eyes. Blue wings flapping, open and closed, atop the face of the robot master. They felt this was a sign, good things were going to come to them because of this. _

_ In a way they were right, this would revolutionize their lives, but not in the way they would want. Light would, eventually, return to his talents as a weapons manufacturer. There was nothing around it. The past he wanted to distance himself from would come barreling towards him at top speed. _

_ Rock’s heart, a beautiful and pounding mess, would grow to become cold and calculated. It’s desire to love and help would, in the end, turn him into someone who needed neither of those things nor wanted to do either. _

_ There would be change, and the butterfly’s wings were evident in this. Fluttering off to spread its effect across the world. The hurricane for which it created was coming, and they were none the wiser for it. _

_ “Do you think it’s a sign, Papa?” _

_ Rock’s voice, the first one to be heard in a while, requested an answer. _

_ Light smiled, watching the butterfly flutter on by. It carried itself on the wind, so careless and so free. He did not take into account the metaphor of the effect it has.  _ _ ‘Somewhere, because of a butterfly flapping its wings, there was a hurricane.’ _ _ Why would anyone think that of an omen so positive? _

_ “I do think it is, Rock. I think these robot masters will turn out to be excellent success stories.” _

* * *

**_SYSTEM ACTIVATION!_ **

**_ERROR LOG:_ **

**_INTENSIVE DAMAGES-- DEACTIVATED ON XX-XX-XXX AT XX-LONGITUDE, XX-LATITUDE._ **

**_SCANNING FOR INTERNAL MEMORY FAILURE_ **

**_MEMORY INTACT_ **

**_SCANNING FOR WEAPON MEMORY FAILURE_ **

**_COPY ABILITY INTACT_ **

**_COPY WEAPON Hyper Bomb INTACT_ **

**_ALL SYSTEMS RESPONSIVE_ **

* * *

Blinding light washed over him as his consciousness returned. There were voices just beyond him, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Slowly and steadily their words became more and more apparent. The worry and concern within them manifested slowly like the smoke off of a flame.

“--lease answer us, Rock!”

Doctor Light?

That had to be his voice, Rock knew it. Pain fluttered into his receptors and he became all too aware of just how wounded he was. Yet he was safe, he recognized the table he laid upon and the voices that spoke to him. They were all too clear and informed him of all he needed to know.

He had survived. The encounter that he had with Bombman, while scarring, was no longer a danger to him. He was in the safety and security of Light Labs, being patched up and tended to by his father and sister.

“I am… okay…”

He attempted to say, coughing in the process. His voice was hoarse and damaged from the smoke inhalation and the flames.

“Oh thank goodness.”

Roll’s voice was shaky and unstable, she was crying and he could hear it. He couldn’t see her wiping her tears away, smudging them over her ‘makeup’, but he could definitely hear her hitched breath and shaky words.

“Rock, what were you thinking? I sent you in there to save lives, not to face the fight on your own!”

Light’s words were harsh, but the small robot couldn’t hear the aggression. All he heard was how much his creator cared.

“I… regret nothing…”

The words came quickly, without hesitation, surrounded with pure honesty. He really would’ve done it all over again if he could. He would relive that nightmare again if he had to. There was part of him that liked it more than the mundane, he felt like this was the life he was meant to live.

His heart was meant to belong to a soldier not a lab assistant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept Art for this Chapter:   
> https://arlas-project.tumblr.com/post/629246427215822848/line-number-dln-004-name-gutsman-physical-age
> 
> ~~
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading this chapter, see you all next week!


	6. Gutsman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The caverns are deep and mysterious, nobody has been in there since the 60s. They have been condemned, but not officially. Gutsman hides deep within, like a dragon ready for the next knight in shining armor, Rock decides to pursue not knowing just how dangerous the gaping maw of death truly is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers in this chapter:  
> Violence  
> Blood/Gore  
> Near Death  
> Natural Disasters  
> Fire  
> Mental Illness  
> Profanity

“Rock, get back here right this second!”

The voice droned through his headset. He loathed it in the moment, a pressuring buzz like a bug in his ear. While he loved who that voice belonged to, he wanted none of the nagging. Rock wasn’t doing this because he wanted to, but instead because he felt it was a necessity. He saw all those bodies strewn all across the pavement, he couldn’t allow that to happen again.

“You aren’t even fully repaired!”

His leg throbbed dully as he trudged over loose dirt and crumbling rocks, it was a sad fact but one he wanted to ignore. While it was true that Light hadn’t finished repairs, the time that was estimated was far too long for him. He had to come out here and rejoin the fight as soon as possible before more people died.

“I understand that, but I have to do this.”

Rock didn’t want to argue, he didn’t want to respond at all, but he felt that he owed that much to his creator.

“No you do not! You are only a child!”

“A child who knows that nobody else can do this.”

There was silence on the line for a while, a pause just as quiet as the gaping maw of the cave he peered deep within. For a while Rock believed that the line died or that Light had nothing else to say, when the voice returned.

“What about the police, the military, anyone else?”

Light’s thoughts were too human. The fact of the matter was that he had blind hope that these robots weren’t as sophisticated as they had turned out to be. He put too much faith on the pre-existing weapons of their era, without knowing that to this date Rock was the only weapon strong enough to handle the onslaught of damage that Wily was causing. No government could take these robot masters down. He knew that from first hand experience in the downtown area of Arcadia.

“You didn’t see how much damage Bombman did. He toppled whole buildings, brought them down before my eyes, and crushed hundreds to death without mercy. Men, women, children, none were safe. The fact of the matter is that no human should have to fight with that sort of risk.”

Rock aimed his buster towards the entrance of the mineshaft, charging it up slowly as he anticipated a response. A second or two passed before he released a shot. Like a torch being thrown down a hole, it lit up its surroundings. Robots glared at him through the light, clutching onto the wall, lying in wait for him to just step inside their territory. They were ready to rip him apart.

“People put themselves out in situations like that all the time.”

Light finally spoke, a sense of detachment present. It was almost as if he was trying not to think about the fact that his own creation, his own son, saw such awful things. Denying that it could be possible that fate was cruel enough.

“If you’re talking about war, that is to protect the safety of others. I’m sure if they had a super weapon they’d choose to use it in an instant.”

Anyone who had read a textbook could see that. If anyone knew that Rock was here, other than those who were in the downtown area when Bombman struck, they would’ve chosen to send the child in over any human. He was just a robot after all, a toy for them to use, a tool in an infinite line of others. They didn’t view him as living, let alone equal. Yet his creator, who should know that better than anyone else, was stalling and attempting to bring him back to the lab.

“I just don’t want you to die.” 

Die. Light was worried about him dying. That wasn’t going to happen. Even if he did die, he could just be rebuilt. One year of memories couldn’t be too much to reconstruct right? Was it even a year? More like six months.

“Robots can’t die.”

A harsh static sound screeched into his ears as he stepped into the cave. Reaching up he fiddled with the dials, silencing the transmission. He was sure Light was on the other side, slamming against the keyboard in a fit of rage. Who wouldn’t be angry over the fact that they lost contact with someone they must’ve cared so much about?

He couldn’t blame him. Rock saw clearly what Light was feeling, but there was still nothing he could do. Arcadia needed him, he truly felt that he was the only one who could do this. It was either he stepped in, or the government instead, to be quite frank he was more worried about a nuke than anything else if the ‘feds’ got involved. Imagine that, the first atomic bomb over an active American city, all over a couple of robots. It’d kill everyone within. Light, Roll, every human present in the blooming city.

The mineshaft was dark and dank, a stark contrast to the world he had just left behind. It felt almost like he was on an alien planet. Every sound echoed and reverberated, getting more and more distorted as it bounced off all the walls. The air was oppressive down here, reeking of earth and oil. 

He could hardly breathe, as if he really needed to do it much, if at all. Breathing was just a matter of cooling his system down. That was something he didn’t currently need in the darkness of the abyss, but the worry that he would eventually require it worried him. Would he delve so deep into the depths that it would begin to grow hot? How far did these abandoned tunnels go?

What could be hidden in here?

_ ‘Gutsman, that’s what.’ _

There was his mind lashing back at him as he lit a torch on the wall. Of course it would bite at him, he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to. This wasn’t his function, this was the exact opposite of what he was built to do.

_ ‘Then why don’t you stop? Go back home, go be with your father and your sister, protect who you are.’ _

A flash image of that child sobbing for help before gurgling out her last breath beneath a pile of rubble. 

The inevitable tears stung his eyes, burning hot as they trailed down his pale cheeks. Of course he would grow sorrowful over the thought. He helped build these robots and to see them being used in such a way was horrifying. He wanted them to be able to be happy and live long and full lives.

Who knew what would happen after this. Was Bombman even able to be rebuilt? Would all their hard work go away? What about his IC Chip? Would he remember anything that happened to him?

_ ‘Would you really want him too?’ _

Rock shot at a robot on the wall, it exploded into a million pieces. The metal dug into his flesh, but he just as quickly plucked it out and let it drop to the cavern floor. Little beads of oil budding where the shards were, he simply wiped them away and pretended they never came.

No, he didn’t think he would want Bombman, or any of the robot masters, to remember all of this. He would rather them live blissfully unaware of the crimes they were undoubtedly committing.

A boom resonated deep within the mine, a concerning sound to hear so deep underground. In an instant, a pinprick of light was visible further down into the darkness. It grew larger and larger until the clacking sound could be heard loud and clear. It became painfully obvious what was coming at him.

A mine cart.

It was moving at speeds impossible for him to dodge in the moment, not like the mine was large enough for him to just jump out of harm’s way anyhow. 

Even if he squished against the wall as far as possible, it would still rip into him. His body was not small enough to allow for the cart to pass without damage. It came barrelling towards him, clacking along, with its glowing blaze of a light. Where could that light even be coming from? Was it battery powered?

_ ‘I have to stop it.’ _

He had no other choice, it was his only logical thought. Rock raised his hands up, ready for impact; impact it made.

The hit was harsh to say the least. He felt his body lock up at the sudden force, but he did not go flying. His vision went black for a split second, but it returned just as fast. Did his ‘eyes’ get disconnected or something? He was unsure. What he was sure of was that his feet were grating against the track beneath him.

The clicking was no longer just the wheels, it was also his feet slamming against the wooden planks that made up the base of the metal minecart track. He felt the metal of his boots begin to grate away. Sparks flew from his armor as he was pushed back further and further.

_ ‘I can’t do this.’ _

Sparks tore at his body, burning it wherever they danced.

_ ‘I’m going to die here.’ _

A harsh cracking filled his ears as his armor began to give way.

_ ‘I’m sorry.’ _

His vision flickered on and off, his mind spun, he was certain that this was the end of the line. He thought he could take the brunt of the hit, maybe slow it down, but perhaps he was wrong. The last ditch effort was futile.

_ ‘Should have let it rip my stomach open…’ _

With one last agonized cry, Rock pushed with all his might hoping that his feet would catch enough to stop the minecart from rolling any further. The sparks ignited up the wall, sparking flames as it went. The coal was now ablaze all around him, bellowing enough smoke to match his overheating body. He gasped for air, anything to cool his systems, only to be met with smoke. 

Just as he believed he was done for, he felt the momentum lift. The pressure was lessening, but he still couldn’t catch his breath. The minecart slowly came to a standstill, allowing him to stop and cool for a moment.

His vision returned allowing Rock to see that he was severely compromised. He was going into this fight weakened and already falling apart. But there was nothing he could do. Ignoring the pain and the heat within him, he pushed the mine cart in the other direction. The momentum was in his favor and it rolled quite easily.

He was always going down, whatever had launched the cart had enough force to send it rocketing up to the surface. Or, at least, as close to the surface as he was allowing it to get. Only one individual could do that.

Gutsman.

He hopped into the cart, letting it zoom down the track through the rapidly spreading flames. Rock knew he had to be quick before the entire mineshaft was ablaze. A distant memory of a place called Centralia reoccurred to him. He wondered if his home would become just as deserted as that place because of his actions.

The smoke around his form, and within the mineshaft, dissipated as he zoomed through the vacant tunnels. He no longer needed the torches upon the walls, the blaze that was following him was more than enough. Even as it became nothing but an echo miles away, it was still enough to light the darkness.

The speed sent cold, dank gusts around him. It surrounded him and enveloped his circuits. He didn’t need to breathe, the faux breeze was more than enough to make him feel as though he could breathe just fine. 

Everything was going to be alright, despite the throbbing pain of his cracking armor digging into his skin and the constant, painful reminder of the burns all over his body. If he kept up at this pace, moving too fast for any enemies to attack him, then no doubt would he be able to get to Gutsman quickly.

Another pinprick of light.

Panic bloomed in his chest seeing the rapidly approaching glimmer. The clacking made it obvious what it was. Rock was much faster to act this time, jumping up and out of the cart just in time to avoid the deadly collision. The subsequent bang was deafening, echoing in such a small space. His ears began to ring for the second time since he started this journey, however this time he was much more accustomed to it.

As he came down he managed to, just barely, grab the mine cart which was now rolling back the way it came. He hung off the back end as it plummeted deeper into the cave, picking up speed as the drop became more and more noticeable. All the while the previous minecart disappeared back into the flames behind him.

Rock struggled to climb back up into the rolling deathtrap. The speed was immense as he struggled to pull himself into the only protection he had. The flames for which he had started were still blowing after him, catching up slowly as the sheer amount of coal in the mineshaft grew more and more plentiful.

Just as he was managing to pull his foot up into the cart, a startling realization was hitting him. He was about to go over an abyss. Was the track there? He couldn’t quite tell. What he could tell was that it was going to be a rather sharp turn. He needed to pull himself in as soon as possible or risk falling to his death at the bottom of a pit.

He struggled to pull himself up, fighting against the forces of gravity which kept him still. In his mind he swore and begged that invisible god once again. He pleaded for the strength; strength that would never come.

Rock was already damaged, not only did he come into the fight in less than stellar shape, but he also damaged himself just minutes prior with that minecart. There was no strength left.

The turn slammed his body against the wall, causing a loud crack to resonate through his form. Despite this his fingers still held, even if one shoulder became dislocated in the process. As he was suspended by the cart over an endless void, it came to his attention that the cracking which he had heard was his neck brace breaking. He watched it fall noiselessly into the pit below.

_ ‘Your IC chip is exposed!’ _

A shrill voice screamed in his brain. One shot to the back of the neck and he’s dead. Not deactivated… no, he was dead.

He struggled to hear the sound of the neck guard hitting ground, but it was either the clacking of the cart was muffling it or it never came to begin with. Rock hung on for dear life, gripping tightly onto the metal, with fire still chasing behind him.

Fire.

The reminder was sharp and he peered back to see where the inferno was. He was suspended over a pit with a track which was only supported by wooden beams. What would happen if that burned.

When his eyes focused, he saw something he didn’t ever wish to see. The supports were indeed exposed to the blaze. They were catching quickly in fact, charring as they came after him. No longer was the blaze fueled by coal, but instead by the wood which it so greedily lapped up.

Quickly it ate it up, following after him like a red beating beast. Its flaming claws reached after him in quick swipes as it attempted to catch up via the wooden support beams. Just as Rock was sure he’d meet a blazing demise, a new horror came to his attention. The loud clacking of something on the track.

The minecarts collided faster than he could look. He was rocketed off the track, plummeting into the chasm below. The drop felt horrid at first before it began to melt away into blind, numbing terror. The carts fell past him, he watched them disappear into the darkness, an eventual sense of peace filled him.

He had tried, and while he did have the regret of never telling Light and Roll how much he loved them, he knew that they were well aware.

Why else would he come out here?

_ ‘That’s not why and you know it!’ _

Then why did he come out here?

Rock closed his eyes, waiting for the bottom of the pit to hit him and destroy him. IC chip exposed, he doubted he’d survive this fall.

The flames disappeared above him, vanishing with the distance. He didn’t know what would become of them, or if anyone would know they were there, but it didn’t matter. Rock was as good as dead.

Light.

A gentle blue glow filled the world beyond closed eyelids.

Opening his eyes he was surprised to see something that looked almost straight out of a story book.

Water plumed up around him as he hit the surface. The water-proof casing of his IC chip kept any fluid from seeping in. With this, while he experienced a bit more damage, he was mostly intact from the impact.

Rock struggled to get to the surface, what with his one arm dislocated, but he still managed. The waves pushed him along gently through the beautiful, glowing crystal-scape. Moss dotted the walls, pulsing gently like stars in the faint glow which shined up from beneath the warm water.

What was it which gave the gentle glow? He didn’t know, nor did he care. He just tried to keep above water as he drifted lazily through the tide. The minecarts were nowhere to be seen, perhaps they were already far down the underground stream.

A shrill cry echoed through the caverns as bats took flight, disturbed by his presence even if only a little bit. They flew off down the river, away from the coal fire, and vanished beyond the bend.

He was astonished, beginning to kick his feet in order to make his way to the first patch of land he saw. The child washed onto the bank without problem, shocked by how easy it was. The first thing he did, now upon solid land, was pop his arm back into place. It was rather painful, but it latched back in rather quickly.

Rock rolled it once, twice, three times before he finally settled on it being as close to fixed as it could be. He took this reprieve to study the damages he had taken. He was alive, and he could remember things, so despite his plunge his IC chip was still intact. There were breaks, cracks, and burns all over his form, but for the most part he was alright. Save for a little pain, he was more than capable of continuing.

Rising to his feet, he gazed down the river, before sighing and deciding it was the only way he could go. He couldn’t swim against the tide, that would take far too long and may not get him anywhere. He couldn’t really go up either, not only were the walls far too sheer, but there was probably already a raging inferno up there.

Rock sighed before approaching the river bank. He let himself just sink into the water, allowing it to carry him along with it. He found it much easier to just drift along when he had both arms to keep him afloat in the mild rapids. The robot bobbed along like the lure on a fishing rod, traveling gently with the current downstream.

As he floated he saw so many beautiful things. Massive crystals which jutted out at jagged edges making a mosaic of gemstones. Moss which hung and glowed from the ceiling, how they thrived down here was beyond Rock’s knowledge. Even small animals manifested themselves in the waters. They were no bigger than the tip of his fingers, but they were still there. How could life thrive so far underground?

The miracles and the beauty wouldn’t last forever, this was something Rock knew very well.

As he drifted lazily down the river, the glow began to slowly dissipate. It was faint, very faint in fact, but gradually, over time, it did begin to go away. The moss became scarcer, the crystals dissipated, the fish became less and less visible. This was a sign to Rock that perhaps he was nearing the section of the mine where the tracks were meant to take him. Maybe, just maybe, he had somehow managed to drift back to where he was supposed to be. Luckily enough the fall had not only saved his life, but also managed to bring him right where he needed to go in perhaps a safer way.

The bank was a far cry from the water he had originally fallen into. The soil was dark and bland, the crystals had practically vanished, there was not even a breath of life other than himself down here. Torches dotted the walls, already lit, something he found somewhat strange to see.

A mine track went along the far side, running briefly through the clearing before zooming off into another cavern that took it deeper into the mine. The path for which it had come from was billowing smoke, no doubt was it the path he would’ve traversed had he not taken the more unorthodox method to get here.

Rock got to his feet looking around the clearing. Minecarts were collected near the track, no doubt was this the stockpile Gutsman kept throwing down the track recklessly. They appeared to all be push carts with the mechanisms gutted out via brute force.

_ ‘He must be around here if he threw those carts.’ _

Alarm fluttered within his mind, the realization that caused everything to make sense, Gutsman had to be hiding somewhere down here. He couldn’t have gone far, nor could he have wanted to go far. He was a big bot, known to lumber along, that was just how he was designed. As such he would have no reason to want to plunge deeper into the cave where it might take him hours to reach the surface once again.

_ ‘Have you looked up?’ _

The thought came quickly, but not quick enough. Just as his eyes peered up he saw the figure of Gutsman coming down upon him.

A cry as he jumped out of the way just fast enough to avoid being crushed. The force caused the child to fall to the ground and succumb to the robot master’s grip. It grabbed hold of Rock, lifting him up by the head into the air.

He struggled against his arm, banging and hitting it with all his might, but in the end he was incapable of freeing himself. The grasp was awful, tight and powerful, it squished his head bit by bit. The metal squealed quietly as it slowly deformed.

“You were the one that fought Bombman!?”

The voice was a low rumble, like thunder. There wasn’t much intelligence there, just rage, but that was to be expected. Gutsman was something of a jock in accordance with his programming. He was more a robot of action then of words. Bombman is supposed to fill in those thoughts for him.

“You killed Bombman, didn’t you!?”

The grip grew tighter, making Rock cry out in pain as he struggled with more fervor. His helmet cracked beneath the pressure. He was growing desperate under the raging grasp. The child had to do something before he died.

**_WEAPONS: Mega Buster, Hyper Bomb_ **

The words flashed across his consciousness. That had to be it. His one salvation, the thing that would allow him to slip out of the situation at hand. Rock had continuously forgotten about his copy ability, but he supposed he wouldn’t any longer. With a bit of effort he switched his weapon. He didn’t expect his entire form to change with it however. Gutsman seemed shocked and, maybe, appalled by how he took on his fallen sibling’s appearance in a way.

Rock summoned a small hyper bomb to his hand and threw it, with all the force he could muster, at Gutsman’s leg. It exploded with contact taking the other’s limb clean off. 

The hand released him and the child was dropped onto the ground. The robot master, now without a leg, struggled to try and hit the boy. Instead what resulted was his figure flopping around like a fish, shaking the entire cave system. In an attempt to stop him, Rock continued to throw those bombs, trying, in some way, to quell the rage through deactivation. That succeeded, however, in only making things worse.

The caves quaked, rocks began to fall all around them. The flames had already done such a large number to the mines, the fight was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. Even as Gutsman grew still, the damage was already done.

Rock moved to the robot master and worked to rip off his neck guard. He succeeded eventually, gaining access to Gutsman’s IC chip. He removed it, sliding the chip into a compartment in his boot made for holding first aid. However the interior supply was never replenished after Bombman’s fight, as such it was just an empty compartment. It would do well to protect Gutsman’s chip.

Rocks fell from the ceiling as the cave-in grew more and more intense. With the Earth quaking and fire continuing to spread, the small robot knew that he had to get out of here as fast as possible. With only one conceivable way out, he began to try and scale the walls. He didn’t know how much deeper the tunnel went, and he couldn’t go back the way he had come. He just had to get to the surface.

Darkness as everything fell down atop him.

His consciousness returned as arms held him. He was being carried like a child through another path in the caves, free of fire and free of a cave-in. The arms were unknown to him, but they were clearly robotic. There was armor on the figure, as he peered up into the face he could see that the individual was far more advanced than anything Rock had ever witnessed prior. In his days of building and of being alive, he had never seen a robot look so intricate.

He wore a chest plate not so dissimilar from a vest. A helmet covered most of his face, black in color with white around the eyes, the lower part was exposed revealing prosthetic skin locked in a frown. Red eyes peered from beneath the helmet, but it never looked down to the boy.

“Who…?”

That was all Rock could say, those eyes looked down to him before a smile flashed across that stoic face.

“There is nothing you should fear, fight on, Rockman.”

The words were enigmatic, but not unpleasant. The name, Rockman, sounded nice to him. Especially now as he dozed off in the arms of a stranger. He didn’t feel like he was in danger around this person, he felt almost as though he had known him from somewhere before. 

But that was impossible. He was merely a phantom of the mineshaft.

When Rock opened his eyes again he was outside in the bright sunlight. Sirens were going off from all directions and a crowd of people were rushing into the mine he came from. He peered around and found that the character, who undoubtedly carried him out here, had disappeared.

“Rock!” Light’s voice was loud and clear. A twinge of fear bubbled up in the child, dispelled only as the doctor hugged him close.

“I was so scared. Thank God you’re okay.”

Overwhelmed by joy and shock, Rock sat there in his father’s arms, and cried. Relieved that there was no rage there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept Art for this chapter: Cutman (Armored)  
> https://arlas-project.tumblr.com/post/629801759793086464/line-number-dln-003-name-cutman-physical-age
> 
> ~~
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading this chapter, see you all next week!


	7. Phantasm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking through the memories, X, Zero, and Axl discover a strange inconsistency within the events that occurred back during the second decade of the millennia. Curious as to why there is a reploid within one of Rock's memories, the three talk it out and, in the end, come to some relatively strange conclusions. Who is this elusive phantom, and what do they want with Rock?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers in this chapter:  
> Heavy Sarcasm  
> Arguments  
> Guns

“Zero, come look at this.”

The words were sudden, enough so that it startled the blond to attention. He stepped away from Rock, whom he was studying closely at the time, and approached X willingly, leaning over his shoulder to look at the computer screen.

“What’s up?”

The question was lax, as to be expected.

“His-- I mean, Rock’s memories. I swear, that’s a reploid right there.”

Disbelief, how could there be a reploid in this world? These memories were from as early as 2010 if he remembered correctly. Reploids had another century at least to go through before appearing. Right? 

“Show me the reploid.”

X flipped through the frames at Zero’s request, stopping over the somewhat blurry shot where the face of the individual could be seen. Those red eyes had a sort of dullness to them, they had to wonder if they never focused, they seemed to look beyond Rock, not necessarily at him.

The two studied the figure for a while, trying to find out if there was any way that he could be just a robot that looked like a reploid.

“That crystal. Remember what Metal said, there is no robot that has the crystal of a reploid. It was one of the things that set me apart from him.”

X gestured to Rock, his expression serious and somewhat concerned. That glaring crystal through a wrench into every theory they could’ve had about the origin of this stranger. Very few robot masters had crystals, those that did used them as weapons not as a power source. And while they couldn’t confirm, nor deny, whether or not this individual was using it as the latter, the fact of the matter was that it was still there.

“Well wait, hold on. Didn’t a few of the other survivors from the robot master era also say that there were robots able to manipulate and bend time?”

Zero’s suggestion was a worthwhile one, the idea that perhaps this was a time traveler might not be so far fetched. Stories of a robot, now deactivated, named Flashman who was able to stop time altogether came back to them. Metal and Quick had spoken about him very fondly. But not only that but wasn’t Time, another robot that survived that era, able to slow and somewhat rewind time as well, making it appear as though he had extremely fast speed? That’s how Quick made it sound at least, hence why he worked in the research and development department.

“So you think this John Doe came from the future?”

Zero nodded in agreement to X’s words, turning to glance back at Rock.

“Wouldn’t be the strangest thing in that little guy’s memories. Man X, your family is pretty damn weird.”

That comment garnered a chuckle, causing X to push his best friend lightly on the shoulder.

“Don’t say that, asshole.”

It was both playful and serious. Any robot that X was associated with in terms of shared creator was gone for the most part. If there were any Light bots other than Rock and Time, he certainly didn’t know about them.

“Anyways, the future. Yes I think he may be from the future. Note how he’s not wearing standard reploid armor either. He looks more streamlined than any of us, that’s for sure. That lends me to believe this is even our future.”

X thought about this for a moment, Zero had a point. It was definitely possible, but he didn’t really want to believe it. Time travel was just too dangerous, if this was a reploid from their future then they must know how risky it is to change the fabric of time and reality. What untold consequences it could have.

“What if he’s from another universe or dimension?”

The two whirled around to see Axl standing there disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling his guns.

“What? Wouldn’t that solve all the problems you guys are probably thinking about? The whole ‘Back to the Future’ shit? If he’s from another universe, then that means he can change this reality as much as he wants! Maybe he’s trying to prevent our reality from becoming like his or something.”

Axl blew up a gum bubble, popping it with the sheer amount of air he was blowing into it. He meant for this to look cool, but all he succeeded in doing was getting gum all over his face. To which he cleaned up quickly.

“C’mon Axl, this isn’t a joke.”

The blond crossed his arms, a scowl firmly planted on his face.

“I’m not jokin’! I mean it!”

He picked the last of the gum off his face, looking over to the child that lay on the table. Axl felt sorry for him, but not enough to let it show through. Just what did this little robot go through?

“No, he may actually have a point, Zero. If robots had the ability to alter time, then who is to say that in our future, they wouldn’t have the ability to universe hop too? If this is a reploid even more advanced than us, it’s definitely a possibility.”

With that X was on his feet, much to everyone’s surprise.

“You can’t be serious.”

Zero reached to stop him, but when X got like this nothing could keep him from practically bounding through the lab.

“Axl, get in contact with Metal, tell him that we need him down here as soon as possible.”

Axl was shocked, watching after X as he disappeared around the bend. Zero quickly gave chase.

“X, think about this! This is insanity!”

“No it’s not! It’s brilliant!”

All the while the sharp-shooter watched after. He sighed, looking over to Rock and shaking his head.

“They’re like an old married couple aren’t they…?”

No response. He didn’t expect one. That didn’t stop Axl from huffing out a ‘rude’ before standing and going to do as he was told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept Art for this chapter: Elecman (Armored)  
> https://arlas-project.tumblr.com/post/631096193861255168/line-number-dln-008-name-elecman-physical-age
> 
> ~~
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading this chapter, see you all next week!


	8. Cutman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In his ever growing journey to stop Doctor Albert Wily, Rock finds himself on the McCaully farm to witness a horrific sight. Cutman, a killer looking for trouble, is waiting and he is looking for blood. Rock thusly has to come to terms within the torrent about what he is doing and if he can reason to himself what his will to live could possibly be. The world keeps turning, and he wonders if he'll ever stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers in this chapter:  
> Violence  
> Blood/Gore  
> Near Death  
> Homicide  
> Torture  
> Infanticide  
> Body Horror  
> Mental Illness  
> Profanity  
> Mentions of Religion

**_CRUNCH!_ **

**_CRUNCH!_ **

**_CRUNCH!_ **

Rock brought the massive stone down again, and again, and again, and again onto the robot master before him. Despite the cuts and gashes all over his body, he continued to plunge the rock down on Cutman repeatedly and endlessly. His eyes clouded with tears and oil as the hot fluid sprayed all over his figure. It ached to continue to slam the figure, but he couldn’t help it.

“Damn you! Damn you!  _ Damn you! _ ”

Rock cursed as he brought the stone down, breathless and seeped in distress. It didn’t make him feel any better, but it was the only thing he could think to do. Eventually he managed to stop, letting out twisted sobs all the while. He allowed the stone to fall to the ground, crushing the robot master one more time.

“Rock! Rock, what’s wrong!?”

Light’s words finally reached him. They housed concern, something they hadn’t done earlier in the night. When he first came out to the corn fields, the doctor felt so distant, undoubtedly because of everything that had happened. It felt like he had little concern for his son, no longer begging him to come home and instead seeming as though he couldn’t care less. 

Rock knew this wasn’t the truth, but it didn’t change the lingering feelings or how they stabbed into his heart. It made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, he was doing the wrong thing by risking his life out here.

“They’re dead!”

The robot cried in return, shaking and trembling. He looked over to his left to see the haunting image of the farm house out in the distance. Its residents were no longer going to come home to that place. They would never again have breakfast in the dining room or watch television in the living room. The beds would forever remain unoccupied as the family would find their last slumber to begin out in the fields.

“I couldn’t save them!”

The moon, a giant white eye in the sky, illuminated everything all too well. The corn stalks were cut in a large circle, creating an artificial clearing in the crop field. The fallen plants were caked in crimson, sticking to each other in thick clumps, blood and oil functioning as the binding agent holding it all together. The family that tended the land was laying in the mud, intertwined with the stalks that they spent so long tending too. This was their entire livelihood, they planted these seeds and were now lying among them as if this was where they belonged.

Their bodies were severely maimed. Undoubtedly they were killed by blood loss, not by the wounds themselves. Their forms were almost unrecognizable save for their mostly intact faces. Blank eyes stared up into the endless sky, open wide and frozen in fear and shock. He wanted to reach out and close their eyes, but was too deep into shock to move towards them.

“Couldn’t save who? Rock, I don’t understand!”

Clouds began to roll in from the west bringing in flashing thunder and heavy winds. The breath of nature blew upon the corn stalks, carrying much of them away in clumps that quickly disappeared into the field. His body shivered as though the cold really had much of an impact on him.

“I couldn’t save the family! They’re dead! Cutman he--”

Rock couldn’t finish the sentence as his voice hitched and tears continued to rush down his cheeks. This was all his fault, he could feel it deep in his gut. He didn’t save them, his one goal was to save the lives of the humans who were in danger. Yet here he was surrounded by the corpses of a robot master’s victims.

“What are your coordinates? I’ll have Roll call the police.”

Loyally, Rock listed off the numbers, his shaking and trembling voice making it difficult to properly speak them. Despite this he attempted as best he could, trying to come off as robotic as possible, failing in the process. Thankfully Light managed to understand regardless and, eventually, figured out the location of the crime.

“That’s… The McCaully farm…”

The words were a shock, but it’s not like he didn’t know who died. Rock remembered so vividly meeting the McCaully family at the Farmer’s Market just three months ago. They always had the best fruits and vegetables.

He loved playing with their dog, Biscuit. He always thought the name was strange, especially for a golden retriever, but all the same he found it endearing. Now Biscuit was laying on the ground, nothing but bone and muscle, tongue lolling out of her mouth with her teeth exposed. Foam pooled beneath her head and onto the corn beneath her. He could only wonder if she tried to save the family from Cutman’s rampage.

They had a daughter around the same physical age as him and Roll too. A beautiful young girl named Mary. She too was here, cut into tiny pieces. Her legs were apart from her body, left arm bent in awkward angles, and head hanging by loose strands of skin. Her long blonde hair was cut too, splayed out around her and coated with blood. Some locks of hair were stuck on still standing stalks, tangled around and now gusting in the wind like a demented flag of some sort. She was still in her pajamas showing that she was most likely taken from her bed as she tried to sleep.

As Rock looked over the corpses, more and more memories came back to him. A baby, no older than three months, the robot remembered holding him once when he was asked to babysit for a few hours. That small child, who was no larger than the boy’s chest, was no longer recognizable. A lump of meat and organs now. Not even a cry to be heard. The only way he was able to tell who, or more like what, he was, was via the cloth which normally would swaddle the baby. He remembered the doctor had given the family that swaddling cloth along with a bunch of other baby items. Rock asked for a reason as to why they owned so many things like that, but never got an answer.

Gazing about his eyes fell upon the biggest figures of them all. The mother and father, they were the sweetest people, their names were Patrick and Charlie. Now they were nothing but corpses, their bodies feeding the crops for which they used to tend to so carefully. They died among their yield, Rock supposed that’s what they would have wanted, but he figured this was not what they had in mind when they said that they would tend to their fields until the very end. Their bodies were flooding the roots with blood as their clothes and appendages hung loosely from their figures.

Rock, already coated in blood, mud, and oil, sunk to his knees and sobbed. He cried, screamed, and wailed. He screamed like a banshee into the cool, summer night. He beat his fists against the ground, splashing moist dirt up into the air. He wanted to save them, but it was far too late. Facing the sky, the robot cursed God in his mind. The same faceless God that he begged for help.

_ ‘He never came to help me back then -- why the hell would he come to save anyone else!?’ _

The storm came, with it so did the rain. The downpour was immense as the watchful eye of the moon withdrew. In a way Rock felt that God had turned his back upon him, leaving him alone in the darkness.

_ ‘Of course he did… I’m just a mindless robot aren’t I? Why would God care for something without a soul.’ _

Yet something contradicted him. Those thoughts about him lacking a soul were immediately disproven as he continued to scream and protest. All his despair, rage, and anger manifested as proof of the exact fact he had been told was nothing more than fiction. He was alive. He was sentient. He was everything a human was, the only difference was that he was made of metal. Bolts were what held his appendages together, not bones. He didn’t have a stomach, he just had a furnace. He didn’t have to sleep, he just had to charge. He wasn’t human, yet he felt more human than some people on the planet.

_ ‘Doctor Wily.’ _

The snarky remark from his brain went against everything he was. It narrated his emotions perfectly. He hated that man. How he wished he was gone. 

“Rock, police are on their way.”

Roll’s voice was a shock, but not one he was lucid enough to notice. He couldn’t feel anything but sheer self hatred and anger. If he had just been a little bit faster, then maybe, just maybe, these people would still be alive.

Lightning streaked across the sky, thin jagged lines which disturbed the everlasting darkness. The subsequent crashes and torrents of rain hardly did anything to quell Rock’s everlasting whirlpool of emotions. They were a torrent that drowned out every other one of his senses. It was almost as though he was awakening to a whole new spectrum of life that he had never noticed before.

Sirens echoed in the distance, muffled only by the continuous cracks from above. Using Gustman’s ability once again, Rock rose to his feet and picked up the boulder he used to destroy Cutman. Lifting it, he threw it far into the distance. It soared over the field and came to a crash on the other side.

Peering down at Cutman, he felt awful. He knew that there was no sense on pinning it on him, he had no knowledge of what he did, but all the same the fact of the matter was that the robot master had gone out of his way to murder these people. Who else had he killed? Was he just going to become a serial killer if he had not stopped him?

Reaching into the pile of scrap, Rock withdrew the IC chip, slipping it into his boot before sinking back down into the mud. He removed his helmet and allowed the rainwater to streak down his form. It rinsed off all the mud, blood, and oil which clung to his armor. Brown hair stuck to his ‘skin’, dripping streams down his face and back. It felt so comforting and yet ever so hateful.

Why was he so upset anyways? Wasn’t he supposed to be a brainless robot? Wasn’t he just supposed to be a machine with the very basic processes to define what goes against his coding and what goes along with it?

Nothing made sense anymore.

He was supposed to be a helper robot, yet here he is. Fighting what felt to be a war that he had no control over. He aimed a gun built into his armor in the direction of his brethren, individuals he helped to create and build. These were his brothers! He loved them like family and yet he practically tortured Cutman to his death.

At the same time why did he even feel that way? If he was a robot without the ability to feel, then why was he crying out in agony? Why was he showing these emotions? Did Light program him this way?

No… Then he wouldn’t be a robot, would he?

Why did he disobey everything that was asked of him? Was he programmed with that instead?

No… Then he wouldn’t be a robot, would he?

Why did he feel as though he was torn apart in the middle, as though he couldn’t tell who, or what, he was? Was it that which he was programmed with?

No… Then he wouldn’t be a robot, would he?

He wanted to kill Doctor Wily.

_ ‘A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.’ _

He wanted to go against Doctor Light, turning his back on his orders.

_ ‘A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.’ _

He wanted to die, to just be put out of his misery.

_ ‘A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws.’ _

A cry as each thought and each image was covered over by the corresponding error message. He hated it, he wanted it to go away.

“Leave me alone!”

His cry was shrill, echoing throughout the field. Rock was going against his ‘programming’. Did he even have restrictive programming to begin with? He wasn’t sure, not anymore. He thought he knew, but perhaps he was wrong.

The sounds of boots slamming against the mud caught his attention. He did little to react. The police were quick to push through the corn and into the clearing. Their guns were all trained on him. He wasn’t surprised, nor was he alarmed. They were aiming at something they believed to be hostile. Even if, in the end, he tried his hardest to save that now lost family.

“On your knees! Hands behind your head!”

Rock didn’t hesitate to follow instruction, leaving his helmet there beside him. As he did this he attempted to stifle his cries.

“Were you the one who called?”

The police asked him, to which Rock nodded his head.

“Who are you?”

The words were harsh as one of the police approached and pulled him to his feet. They began to investigate the clearing, figuring out quickly what happened.

“Rock…”

That was all he could say through his shock.

“I came to stop Cutman… When I got here, he had killed them.”

This was far out of their territory, Rock could see it. He didn’t say anything or comment on it, but he couldn’t help but wonder if the police could even arrest a robot. Would they have been able to stop Cutman if he hadn’t intervened, or would the robot master have killed them all just like he killed the family.

“Escort him.”

The instruction was quick, but not quick enough.

“Can I have my helmet back first?”

Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the scowls which gave way in order to give the boy back his gear. They saw no danger with it, as such there was no reason for them to keep it from him. Even if they were suspicious of him, they didn’t suspect him to be much of a threat with how he was willingly going along with all they wanted him to. With that in hand, he walked back to the road with the officers who were told to escort him. He did not protest, just trudged alongside them. He had to speed walk to keep up, but he didn’t mind. His small legs did just fine.

It only took a few hours before all the pieces fell into place to reveal that Rock was correct in what he said. He was innocent in every sense of the word. Not only did Light come to provide an alibi, but also it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that Rock was not built to cause such precise damage. Besides, the time of death predated his own transport logs, showing that he wasn’t even on the property until long after they died. With all this information they were unable to arrest the robot.

The car ride home was dreadful. The silence remained as they drove through the rain and darkness. Rock stared at the helmet in his lap, not even noticing how he had gotten mud all over the passenger seat in the family car. After ten minutes, he began to break. His trembling started up again and tears flooded forth. He rocked back into his chair and began to sob openly in front of his father, who listened in silence.

“I’m sorry Papa! I promised I’d save people! I couldn’t do it!”

He wailed out like a banshee, his sobs never stopped, even as he repeatedly apologized for everything that had happened.

With a flick of the wrist, Light activated his hazards, pulling over to the side of the road in order to console his son. He parked the car, locking the doors to ensure that nobody who was skulking around in the night would get any bright ideas, and leaned over to hug his son tightly in his arms. If the Doctor was honest he was more relieved that his creation was okay. The relief overpowered his grief. While he was close to that family, nothing could replace his son.

In the end, Rock was the closest thing to a child Light could have. He tried to have kids with a wife that had passed long ago. Cancer took her away, that matched with the fact the doctor couldn’t have kids to begin with, it left him with a void and dissatisfaction with life. That was why, with his skills as a roboticist, he created Rock and Roll. They meant everything to him, because to him, they were just as priceless as any actual biological child. They may be made of metal, but that didn’t matter in the slightest.

He knew, deep in his heart, well enough that there was nothing Rock could’ve done to save that family. Not only that but they wouldn’t have wanted them to grieve. As such he tried to be grateful instead for the fact that Rock was in the car next to him. There was no bailing him out of jail, no fighting with the police, no major repairs. Instead it was just emotional scarring. Most of which he could try to work out with him in some way, somehow. It would take time but he could.

The rain pattered along the windshield and lightning danced across the sky as he locked his son in an embrace. Rock’s sobs didn’t quiet even as Light comforted him. It hurt his heart so much to see the robot in so much distress, but it was to be expected. He felt like a failure in every sense of the word.

“I’m so proud of you, Rock. Really, I am. You are working so hard and while you may not have managed to save them, you saved so many people who most likely would’ve come after them. That, in and of itself, is wonderful enough. Sometimes things happen and we don’t understand it, but we just have to get back up and push onwards. You are doing something so incredible…”

Light let Rock wail for a little longer, letting him drain all of his energy. The tears, which were just a little more than fluid to clean his eyes, eventually ran out resulting in oil to flow forth instead. They stuck and clumped in the robot’s long eyelashes, gluing them shut. The doctor knew he would have to clean them eventually, but it was alright. He didn’t mind in the slightest, so long as he was feeling better. If he was happier, then Thomas was happy too… At least he wasn’t holding it all in. 

His sobs eventually turned into what sounded like a human attempting to mimic donkey brays. All and all Rock became a mess rather quickly. Not a lot of time passed before eventually he was all cried out. Sleep overtook him as his power began to run low. The night was upon him and, after a moment or two, he was asleep in the passenger seat. Turning off his hazards, Light was back onto the road.

He drove on in silence with the gentle music from the radio droning on. It felt surreal to just be driving in the rain, but that was alright. While he too was in shock, he found himself thanking fate. Even if things went wrong, he couldn’t help but be relieved with how things turned out. They could’ve been so much worse.

All that mattered was that Rock was safe and back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept Art for this chapter: Iceman (Armored)  
> https://arlas-project.tumblr.com/post/631096472611471361/line-number-dln-005-name-iceman-physical-age
> 
> ~~
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading this chapter, see you all next week!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading endless war! We hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it! I hope you will check out my other works since you've reached the end of all available chapters!


End file.
